


Proof

by 100percentfluffster



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: FluffWolf Peter, Four plus One, Most of the characters are background, Peter Hale Feels, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Peter is there to bail him out of it, Petty Pack, Protective Peter Hale, Rude Allison, Scott is a bad friend but not a terrible one, Scott just really doesn't like Peter, Stiles gets in trouble a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 13:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16430105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100percentfluffster/pseuds/100percentfluffster
Summary: Stiles and Peter's relationship is fairly new and Scott doesn't believe that Peter actually cares about Stiles. This is a story of four times that Peter showed that he cared about Stiles and the one time Scott actually got it.OR five times Peter refused to lift a finger to help the Pack until Stiles needed help.





	Proof

**Author's Note:**

> Just posted my first TW fic a few days ago, and now here's another one! The Steter is strong within me right now.  
> Hope you enjoy!

1

The omega is a snarling mass of wild and insane desperation. It’s clear that the man, or what used to be a man, has gone completely feral. There’s drying blood around his mouth and hands and his clothes are mere scraps.

Scott tries to wrangle his betas together in a way that they can capture and restrain the beast, he believes that with time the man can be saved.

Peter knows better and watches the scene with a dismissive air. It would be a mercy killing to put the omega down. McCall is just wasting their time and elongating the suffering of the poor soul in front of them.

“Damn it, Peter! Help Isaac!” McCall growls, literally.

Peter scoffs from where he stands off to the side with Stiles watching the fight. “I’m not going to risk my throat being torn out because you refuse to acknowledge the truth in front you, McCall. Just end the thing’s suffering and maybe we can all get home at a reasonable hour tonight.” Peter leans further into the tree at his back in an over the top display of his unwillingness to help.

Stiles sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead as he adds, “He’s right, Scotty. Look at him, he’s feral. We can’t undo that. What even is your plan?”

Scott avoids another swipe at his stomach and shouts back, “I’ll take him to Deaton’s, he’ll know what to do!”

Peter barely holds in his growl of frustration and mockery but does give a sarcastic head tilt as Stiles responds, “That’s seriously your plan? You do realize that Deaton will just want the thing put down, right? He’s a vet! He understands that sometimes a mercy killing is--”

“We don’t kill!”

“Maybe you don’t,” Peter drawls under his breath. Stiles is the only one to catch the words however and he just waves a dismissive hand at the werewolf. Peter watches the boy in amusement and fondness.

It happens nearly too fast for Peter to catch. Scott falls to the side to avoid a nasty bite to the hip and suddenly the omega is launching itself passed Scott and out of the circle of amateur werewolves. Derek shouts out a warning as the omega catches sight of Stiles and Peter and jumps directly at the human.

Peter reacts faster than he thought possible, and even then it’s just barely fast enough. He steps between the human and the incoming omega, which results in two heavy scrapes across his chest, and he forces his claws through the feral wolf’s collar bone followed by the lower skull. The body falls to the ground in front of him and Peter doesn’t spare it another glance as he spins on the spot to check on Stiles.

The human’s eyes are large and he smells acrid like shock and fear, but Peter can’t find any harm done to him. He steps forward toward the boy but is stopped by gentle hands on his chest. Stiles runs shaking fingers down the sides of the gashes in Peter’s muscles even as they visibly heal.

“Are you okay?” they both ask at the same time. Stiles chuckles breathily and just pulls Peter into a tight hug, both of them ignoring the blood staining Peter’s hands and chest.

“What the hell, Peter?!” Scott’s outraged voice causes Stiles to stiffen and Peter to tense. Peter pulls away from his precious human and turns back to the Alpha.

“No thanks for saving your best friend?” Peter retorts. He idly tries to dry off his hands on his pants, but only manages to smear the blood around. He grimaces at the familiar but no less unpleasant sensation.

“I said nonlethal--”

“Stiles would be dead if I hadn’t reacted, McCall!” Peter snaps.

“That doesn’t mean you had to kill him!”

Peter waves at his own chest, the wounds rapidly healing but still there. “I would have been dead after a few more seconds! It’s not like you runts were doing anything worthwhile to stop the guy. I’m not going to die in order for you to have a clean conscience!” Peter turns away from Scott in disgust and walks away from the scene.

Scott catches Stiles before he can follow. “Are you okay?” Scott asks.

Stiles rolls his eyes but answers, “Yeah, Peter wouldn’t have let anything happen to me.”

Scott doesn’t agree with that statement. Peter hadn't helped until the last minute. The older Hale only reacted the way he did because the omega was a threat to his own safety, not Stiles’. “Peter killed him.”

Stiles shrugs and replies, “Can’t say I’m mad about that, especially since he did it to save my life.”

Scott wants to shake some sense into Stiles because his best friend is being taken in by the man that had started this entire debacle. Peter didn’t care about anything but himself. Scott wasn’t sure why Peter was so interested in Stiles, but their new fledgling relationship left Scott feeling wrong-footed and suspicious.

“Stiles--”

“Make sure you take care of the body properly. I’m going to go make sure Peter’s not hiding any serious injuries, okay? If you need tips on corpse care just text me, okay? Bye!” Stiles lopes off after he finishes his sentence.

Scott is left glaring into the darkness with a dead body at his feet.

Peter Hale is up to no good.

 

2

The Pack is strewn across every piece of furniture in sight and Peter can’t help but snort in amusement. They’re all idiots for not listening to him about the witch, they deserve this. Jackson makes a low mewling whine as he clutches at his roiling stomach.

It’s a low-grade curse, one that’ll just make them all sick for a few days. Very sick, but not dangerously so. Stiles and he had been the only ones to avoid contamination during the confrontation, mainly because Stiles listened to Peter and held back rather than barging forward like the rest.

“What are you even doing here, Peter?” Scott grumbles from his hunched position on the couch.

Peter doesn’t giggle but he does laugh lightly under his breath. He likes having the great True Alpha being so powerless. “I’m here to pick up Stiles. While you lot may be out of commission for a while, boy wonder and I have plans.”

Scott scowls and turns away from Peter to face the back of the couch instead of the smirking werewolf.

“Stiles isn’t going anywhere any time soon,” Derek says after a beat of silence.

Peter smile falls. “Are you really going to keep him here doing research for you? Or being a nurse for you lump of pathetic wolves?”

Derek frowns with his eyebrows but it’s Allison who replies, “First off, we’re not all wolves. Second, Stiles got sick. Turns out we’re contagious.” Allison gestures vaguely in the direction of the other couch and Peter turns to try and find his boy.

Stiles is passed out next to Lydia on the couch, completely dead to the world. He crouches near Stiles’ head and brushes some hair back from the boy’s face. “When did this happen?” Peter asks. He frowns at the warmth coming from Stiles’ body.

Lydia doesn’t open her eyes when she replies, which shows just how wiped she is. “He threw up a couple of hours ago and then it was a swift nose dive to unconsciousness and fever. I told him he shouldn’t hang around us. ”

Peter scowls though no one can see it. The Pack has been sick for three days now and he figures they only have a couple more before they're in the clear. Of course, Stiles would screw things up. Peter gently shakes his lover’s shoulder to wake him up. Stiles’ nose scrunches up in displeasure but his eyes slowly blink open. They are glassy and unfocused but they stop on Peter’s blue ones and the boy smiles goofily. “Hey, Pete. I missed you.”

Peter ignores Scott’s whine of complaint from behind them and just smiles softly down at Stiles. “You got yourself sick, sweet boy?” Peter asks. He places soft fingertips on Stiles’ cheek and easily drains Stiles’ joint pains and headache away from him. Stiles sighs and settles further into the couch at the feeling of his discomfort leaving him.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know you had reservations somewhere fancy, probably. You’re always so fancy. My dapper wolf.” Stiles rambles until Peter places a finger to his lips to stop any more embarrassing nicknames from slipping out. Peter ignores the faint heat of a blush on the back of his neck and is very careful to not look up when Derek scoffs in disbelief.

“It’s no problem, Stiles. Can you tell me when you got sick?”

Stiles tries to shrug but it takes too much energy so it looks more like a faint twitch. “Don’t know. Haven’t been feeling great today but I was in the middle of helping Jackson move to the other chair when I got really nauseous. Don’t remember much after that.”

Peter sighs and presses a soft kiss to Stiles’ temple and glares ineffectually at Jackson’s chair. It’s amusing to watch the others fall over themselves and vomit all over the place, but seeing Stiles in pain makes Peter’s stomach curdle. He hates it and he’ll do anything to avoid it. Stiles will probably be sick for the next week, a couple days behind the others.

Peter curses mentally and stands up, careful to not jar Stiles from his position while he does so. “I’ll be back in a bit, okay?” Peter asks looking down at the wonderful boy below him. Stiles nods as he closes his eyes and is lost once again to sleep.

Peter turns around to find suspicious eyes on him, but he doesn’t have the time or patience to deal with Scott, so he ignores him as he leaves the building. It’s time to go grab some books and some ingredients.

A couple hours later he once again finds himself in the middle of a room filled with very ill teenagers and questioning his life choices. He ignores the glares from Scott and Allison and makes his way immediately over to Stiles. The boy is still dead asleep, something that Peter is thankful for since it means his boy’s suffering has been minimal. He never would have left the sickness untreated if he’d known it could get Stiles.

He sighs and takes out the bottle of antidote from his bag. The curse was a fairly common one and he had the instructions to brew the antidote at his apartment. Not that anyone had asked him.

Peter quickly nudges Stiles into some form of awareness and coaxes him to take a small sip of the concoction. The moment the liquid touches Stiles’ lips the human tries to spit it back out but Peter stops him and encourages him to swallow. Peter smiles and presses a sweet kiss to Stiles’ cheek when he does as he’s told.

“What are you doing?” Scott demands from behind them. Peter rolls his eyes and places the bottle on the coffee table.

“Here’s the antidote you uneducated children.” Peter manhandles Stiles up into a sitting position, ignoring Lydia’s fervent protests. “One swallow each should be plenty. Now if you’ll excuse me I have more important things to do then to waste my time with you.” Peter picks Stiles up with ease and stands up carefully as to not startle his human.

Scott forces himself up into a sitting position and continues his glaring at Peter. “Where are you taking him?” he demands.

“My apartment.” Peter starts to walk away to the door. He stops short when a knife sails by his arm and embeds itself into said door. He turns quickly and hisses, “I can understand throwing sharp things at me, but please remember that your dear friend is in my arms, _Argent_.”

Allison just rolls her eyes and goes back to staring listlessly at the ceiling. Scott, however, is not done. “So you just suddenly have the antidote?”

“I could take it with me if you don’t want it, but I know Stiles will be back tomorrow and I don’t want him getting sick again. So yes, the antidote is for all of you.”

“And why didn’t you have this knowledge a couple days ago?” Lydia asks.

Peter smirks and rearranges Stiles into a more comfortable position in his arms. “Perhaps I didn’t have the right motivation before. I have no desire to deal with a sick Stiles on top of all your whiny asses.”

“I don’t whine,” Stiles slurs out, his eyelashes tickling Peter’s neck as the boy fights to get his eyes open.

“Of course not, sweet boy. But your friends do.”

Scott wonders just what Peter is getting out of this. He’s scared that Peter will take advantage of Stiles’ weakness, but watches helplessly as his best friend snuggles further into the Hale’s chest. Maybe Peter just doesn’t want to have to deal with rearranging his and Stiles’ plans. The impatient bastard that the man is.

“You hurt him and I’ll tell his father,” Scott threatens. His eyes are already moving over to the bottle on the coffee table. Peter wouldn’t pause to poison them, but he had given it to Stiles, the one person Scott was sure Peter wouldn’t murder at the drop of a hat. He doesn't think Peter really cares for Stiles but he also doesn’t think he would poison Stiles.

“Duly noted,” Peter replies drily and Stiles giggles somewhat drunkenly. Scott scowls at the fond grin that spreads across Peter’s face, but he only sees it for a moment before the man turns back to the door and is gone within one heartbeat and the next.

Scott makes a mental note to text and check in on Stiles every couple of hours.

 

3

“Damn it, Peter! Just do it!” Scott says nearly in a shout, but consciously forces into a normal volume.

Peter shakes his head and replies once again, “Not a chance. Why should I?”

“Why should you? Because we need you to so we can stop the thing.”

“How sure are you that this will even work?” Stiles asks from beside Peter. The rest of the Pack are scattered around the preserve trying to track the most recent monster of the week. It’s something with lots of scales and possessed by a demon of sorts. It goes around and feeds off of the memory of physical pain. The only problem is that the person whose memory it is has to relive the moments, often times many at a time.

“Deaton said--”

“You know that neither of us gives a damn what Deaton says Scott,” Stiles interrupts with a clear warning to his voice.

Scott looks like he’s a couple moments away from shaking Stiles by the shoulder, but instead, he takes a deep breath to try and calm himself. They’ve been looking for a way to stop this thing for a week now, and he’s just raced back to the Pack with the answer but Peter won’t do it!

“I’m not going to let the thing get to and replay my memories, McCall. You have no idea how much pain I’ve been in over my life.”

“Exactly!” Scott exclaims. “Deaton says that the more intense memories we can give it the more drunk it will get and the easier we can stop it. Right now it’s too fast for us to even catch sight of it. We need it to be off its game, okay?”

“And to do that you just want to throw it Peter?” Stiles demands. The boy’s arms come up to fold together across his chest and now Scott knows they’re not going to get anywhere.

“We don’t have another choice!” Scott insists. If Peter would just suck it up and take one for the team then they could all go home and go to sleep, maybe start to catch up on all the sleep they’ve missed this week.

“The thing has to stop moving at some point, Scott. To sleep or to recharge or something. We can just wait until then. No need to make Peter relive decades of pain, he’s lived a painful life and he’s been burned alive like three times now!”

“It’s the fastest way to--”

“I don’t care! You would never ask Allison or anyone else to do it. This is because it’s Peter.” Stiles looks positively wrathful and Scott swallows harshly because that expression on his friend's face has never ended well for him.

“I’m asking Peter because he knows how to make hard decisions, Stiles. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me? That you and Peter are the only ones that will make the hard choices? Well here I am, asking you to do it, and you won’t.”

“That’s completely different and you know it!” Stiles shouts. Peter is looking more and more apathetic as the conversation moves on and Scott wonders what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t have to wonder long.

Peter turns to Stiles and says quietly, “If you think it’s the best way--”

Stiles shakes his head and lays a hand on Peter’s chest. “Absolutely not.”

Peter looks unsure and his eyes flicker uncertainly between Stiles and Scott, it’s easily the most unsure Scott has ever seen Peter. Probably the most emotional he’s ever seen Peter in general. “Stiles, you need to--” Scott tries to push.

“Peter, go help Derek,” Stiles interrupts, eyes on Scott. The True Alpha is surprised when Peter doesn’t even hesitate at the order, just turns on the spot and lopes off after the distant presence of his nephew. Though perhaps he shouldn’t be, because Peter’s really just running away, right? Peter’s not showing appreciation of Stiles but rather an appreciation for his own life.

“We don’t have a choice, Stiles. We need to figure this out before anyone else gets traumatized for life.”

“Oh, so you care that a stranger could be traumatized but not Peter?”

“It’s our responsibility to deal with these things.”

“That doesn’t mean that we have to do it right now or like this.”   
“I promised Deaton I’d take care of it tonight.”

“And what’s the worst that happens if we don’t? We have it on the run, we just need to wear it down.”

“We’ve been chasing it for a week!”

“So it’ll have to break down soon!”

“This ends tonight, Stiles! Whether you like it or not!”

Stiles stomps his foot in frustration and Scott rolls his eyes. Stiles is always too eager to jump the gun to violence or let the innocent take the blame for something. But not this time. Peter could handle it and they could all go home.

Stiles breaks the silence, “I have an idea.”

Scott pauses and glances back the way Peter went in confusion. “Okay? Does Peter know it? Does it involve him and Derek somehow?”

“Peter doesn’t know it and Peter won’t know it.”

Scott struggles to keep up. “I thought you didn’t want Peter to have to live through his memories? Are we going to trick him?”

Stiles looks absolutely disgusted by the idea. “God, no, Scott. I have a better idea, but it involves me instead of Peter. And if he was here he would never let me do it. So no, Peter won’t know about it.”

“What do you mean he wouldn’t let you do it?”

Stiles looks at Scott like he’s a particularly dense piece of fruit and says, “He won’t let me do it because he’s protective.” Scott somehow doubts that. The man just ran away from the two of them, so clearly Peter isn’t too concerned over anyone but himself.

“So what’s the plan then?” Scott asks in resignation. If they would just listen to him, he already had a plan.

“I’m going to do it instead.”

“What do you mean? You haven’t been in enough physical pain, Stiles. We need something really overwhelming for it, so we can catch it by surprise.”

Stiles nods though he's already walking away. Scott follows after him and waits for Stiles to start talking. It’s only a matter of time. “It needs memories of pain to draw on, but we don’t actually need them to be real, right? My Spark is about belief, so I think I can trick it into thinking that I’m a pain-wracked individual.”

“Do you think it will have side effects on you?”

“Oh most definitely. But at least Peter won’t have to relive burning alive or regrowing his spleen or whatever.”

Scott frowns more emphatically and spends the next twenty minutes trying to talk his friend out of his plan, but Stiles is stubborn. It doesn’t even occur to Scott to try and leverage Peter into taking Stiles’ place, because he doesn’t think Peter will actually care.

He’s proven wrong very soon.

Stiles manages to draw the thing to him and feed him the false memories seeped in pain, but the boy grows pale almost as soon as the thing latches onto him and collapses without another word. The thing is moaning in ecstasy or something, sounding like a drugged warthog, but Scott can’t take his eyes away from his friend on the ground.

Erica and Isaac try to distract the thing away from Stiles, and while the monster takes a tentative interest in Isaac for a second, it quickly returns its attention back to Stiles. The monster is still too fast for them to hit though, and all the while it's draining _something_ from the human.

Scott nearly jumps out of skin when Derek and Peter suddenly appear on either side of him. Derek is looking on the scene in apparent confusion but Peter is watching in horror. “What the hell did you do, McCall?” he demands in fury.

“Me? This is _your_ fault for not doing what I said in the first place!”

Peter doesn’t pay any further attention to Scott he just bolts forward toward the beast and Stiles. The thing’s many eyes zone in on Peter immediately with a manic glee. Scott wonders if it can see how much pain Peter has experienced and caused. Stiles calls out to Peter weakly but is ignored by everyone.

The beast jumps onto Peter and psychically latches on to the wolf. Peter falls to the ground in a moment as his skin goes grey and his body shakes. The moaning warthog noises increase frantically and the beast stumbles in place as if tipsy. Erica and Isaac close in when they see the weakness but Stiles is already pushing himself woozily to his knees. With the beast holding still, Stiles reaches out to it with a sparking hand. Scott doesn’t know what happens next except there are a lot of loud noises and bright lights flashing. It hurts his eyes and his ears and the entire clearing smells strongly of ozone.

The whole thing only lasts a few seconds before Scott’s ears pop painfully and the clearing is back to normal. With no lights or sounds or any sign of the damned memory sucking thing.

Only Stiles and Peter. The younger man is kneeled over the other, gently stroking Peter’s cheek with one hand, the other holding tight to Peter’s fingers. They’re talking so lowly that Scott can barely hear them, but hear them he can.

“You still with me, baby?” Stiles asks.

“Always.”

Scott’s surprised by just how wrecked Peter sounds and even more surprised by how much sincerity the one word answer holds.

“Do you remember what happened? Where we are? Who I am?” Stiles questions. His voice is shaking and breaking and Scott doesn’t have to see to know that Stiles is crying. Scott fully expects Peter to make some smart comment.

“Yes,” is all Peter says. After a moment he adds, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Stiles asks through a broken scoff.

“For making it stop.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t come barging in. I had it under control.”

“Sure you did, darling.” Peter sounds absolutely exhausted. “Did it hurt you?”

“No. Not exactly. I wasn’t feeding it real memories so it was like guzzling down my magic instead. Exhausting and very unpleasant but not painful.”

“You didn’t look good, sweet boy. I was worried.”

“ _You_ were worried?” Stiles responds in only half faked outrage. “Peter I thought you were dead!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Scott interrupts as he finally approaches the two. He nearly flinches away from the severity of the glare Stiles focuses on him but he holds his ground. This wouldn’t have happened if they’d listened to him after all.

“Shut the fuck up, Scott. Next time we fucking listen to me, okay? I don’t care what Deaton says. No arbitrary time limits or forced martyr treatment.” Stiles helps Peter to his feet and Scott doesn’t dare say anything to defend himself. Stiles will be in a better mind set later, once he cools down and sees sense.

Up close, Peter looks even worse than Scott thought and regret pulls faintly at the Alpha’s mind. He remembers Peter’s panic at seeing Stiles on the ground and he begins to think that maybe Peter cares a little more than he’d given the man credit for.

Peter gives Scott a tired and wan but still smug smirk and bites out, “Next time I’ll set you on fire and let you be the bait, huh?”

Stiles practically drags the man away from them all before Scott can fully process the threat. Isaac clears his throat while they all watch them disappear bickering into the tree line and says, “That was intense, yeah?”

Erica snorts and elbows the curly haired boy in the side lightly, mindful as she always is of his aversion to surprise touch and replies, “We owe Peter a thank you.”

The thought leaves a bad taste in the back of Scott’s mouth and he swallows roughly. Peter may have tricked Stiles but he won’t be such an easy victim. Peter isn’t a good man and he’s using Stiles. Scott just can’t find the proof.

 

4

The Pack is on the edge of a break down. Everyone’s tempers are short and they’re all sick of each other. Every word said is aimed to hurt and the vast majority of them have been aimed at Peter, because he’s a convenient target. They don’t want to take their anger out on each other, but Peter?

The older Hale is used to it and though the comments sting, he lets the Pack get away with it. He’s not going to put the forth effort to try and help them get passed their immature reactions and blame shifting. He’s not the one responsible for this Pack’s mental stability and frankly he doesn’t give a damn about any of them. So why should he become their in-Pack psychiatrist?

But this week is much much worse than normal. Stiles is gone with his dad to visit family out of town, and it’s become glaringly obvious just how much Stiles does for them in regards to helping with the supernatural threats via research and backup as well as mediating the different friend groups and brainstorming sessions. Without Stiles there to make sure Lydia’s mocking genius is curbed or Peter’s acerbic comments softened or Scott’s heartbreak managed or Isaac’s fear mitigated or Derek’s eyebrows translated or….

The Pack can’t function without Stiles and it’s showing majorly. Fortunately, Stiles is due back sometime today.

They’re all camped out in Derek’s living room waiting for Deaton to call and tell them that the witch coven has been officially taken care of. The meeting with the witches a few hours earlier had gone off all right, but Scott had given them a couple of hours to clear out. Now they were waiting for the all clear so they could all leave and escape each other’s company.

Lydia is in the middle of a truly disparaging rant about Erica’s inability to emotionally regulate when they all hear the slam of Stiles’ Jeep door closing outside. A strange tension falls over the room and all eyes turn to the door. Peter can feel his own body perking up at the thought of seeing Stiles. Hearing him, smelling him, touching him. He feels rather like an overeager puppy but he doesn’t give a damn.

Stiles has barely gotten through the door before Jackson exclaims, “About fucking time, Stilinski!”

Stiles doesn’t even blink just smiles and waves and says, “Missed you too, Whittemore.”

After that a harsh silence falls over everyone as they bite their lips to keep from lashing out. Stiles is grinning ear to ear and it’s clear he’s happy to see them and no one particularly wants to kick that hornet’s nest. Stiles is the only member of the Pack that everyone likes, as has become increasingly obvious over the last week.

Stiles launches off into a rant about his family visit as he goes around and gives shoulder pats and hugs to everyone. Peter is left for last and the man is practically vibrating in his seat with impatience by the time Stiles reaches him. He doesn't hesitate to pull the young man into his lap and hug him tightly to his chest.

Peter ignores the sound of disgust that leaves Scott and Allison in unison and focuses on breathing in the heady scent of Stiles all around him. On savoring the heat of Stiles’ body and running his hands down Stiles’ back in a long tight embrace. It does wonders to sooth his chafing calm. All the while Stiles continues to talk about his Aunt Dory and her two kids. Peter listens carefully and files away the information to ask about later. He doesn’t like talking freely with Stiles in front of the rest of them.

“For God’s sake, Stiles, shut up!” Derek snaps, his hand hovering near his temple and his eyebrows knotted together in obvious tension.

Stiles stiffens in Peter’s hold but the boy laughs and plays the comment off. “Just admit you missed me, Sourwolf.”  

“Or he’s already tired of listening to you talk, Stilinski. It’s like you never left,” Jackson complains. Which is a blatant lie that all of them silently acknowledge though the words make something primal rear up in Peter’s chest. He wants to protect Stiles. He admonishes himself silently because Stiles doesn’t need Peter to defend him against Jackson of all people.

“I’ll have you know that my Aunt Dory thinks I’m _charming_. Said that I’m a right gentleman and--”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be bragging about your aunt around present company, Stiles,” Allison cuts in. She and Scott’s whirlwind romance is once again broken off for the moment and she’s been particularly petulant and vindictive recently because of it. Stiles winces and Peter tightens his hold on his boy.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be bragging about a family in general,” Isaac adds though his voice is quiet.

Lydia rolls her eyes and says, “You guys are all babies, Stiles doesn’t need to censor what he says about his family, we should just all be happy that we haven’t managed to kill them yet.” Stiles winces again and Peter fights the urge to pick the boy up and run from the building.

Allison turns her glare to Lydia and then back to Peter, her favorite pin cushion. “It seems shortsighted for Stiles, who loves his family, to date someone that so clearly doesn’t value that. Must be hard to--” Allison breaks off when Stiles lurches to his feet in rage.

“Shut the fuck up, Argent!” Stiles shouts. Peter feels a small vindictive satisfaction in watching Stiles defend him but he’s not in any fashion surprised by the jab. With Stiles gone the snide remarks at him this week have been getting increasingly cruel. Dragging his family back into the picture and claiming he didn’t care about them. A few memorable metaphors about fire and phoenixes. Isaac even once accused him of child abuse, which stung the most, to be honest. Peter had treated his family with the utmost care and respect, back when he had one at least. Stiles knows that and that’s all Peter needs.

Peter lays a soft hand on Stiles’ back before another argument can form, not wanting to subject Stiles to that. The human melts back into Peter’s touch, clearly unhappy with being stopped but knowing that Peter doesn’t like others fighting his battles.

Jackson smirks and says, “Looks like you do have a good use, Hale.”

Erica matches his expression and adds, “Though I don’t think we want to know the things you had to do to make Stiles shut up on command.”

Stiles looks outraged though Peter knows it’s probably more for Peter than himself, Peter’s though, on the other hand, is sick and tired of people telling Stiles to shut up. It’s a constant remark thrown the human’s way and Peter knows that Stiles can get very self-conscious about it. Stiles’ ADHD makes it hard for him to focus and talking is the way the boy processes information, not to mention that he just enjoys talking. Peter enjoys listening to him, so it works for them. But everyone else is always shouting for Stiles to stop talking or to stop bothering them. Stiles is anything but a problem.

Peter stands with a flourish and within seconds has Stiles over by the exit and ready to leave. Stiles blinks in apparent surprise but just smiles softly at Peter when he realizes the wolf is lowly growling. Stiles doesn’t bother saying goodbye just allows Peter to push him out the door without resistance.

Peter pauses at the door, however, debating if he should say something. It’s not his place and he doesn't care, but he also doesn’t want Stiles to have to deal with this everytime tensions get high. It’s a pattern he can already see manifesting.

He turns, with one hand on the door, and looks at the Pack. “I don’t give a damn what you say about me, and Stiles will forgive anything you say about him. But if you guys keep doing shit like this then this entire Pack is going to implode before you know it. Despite what you guys seem to think I did have a happy and healthy family that I adored and cherished before they were ripped away from me by hunters.” He tries very hard to not look at Allison.

“If you want to have a real Pack then you need to get over yourselves and stop lashing out at each other. All it will lead to is hatred and distrust. Things may not be ideal but that does not excuse your behavior toward each other. If it helps to center all your aggression on me, then fine. Whatever. I don’t give a shit, but if this week has shown us anything, it’s that you can’t afford to keep throwing cheap shots at Stiles, all right?” He shouldn’t be telling them this, he wants nothing more than for Stiles to turn his back on them all, but he knows it would kill Stiles. So here he is, helping this group of ungrateful brats once again. Peters sighs and stomps out of the house after Stiles. He needs some serious cuddling.

Scott and the others watch the door in astonished silence, well after Stiles’ Jeep has rolled out of hearing. Scott’s at a loss. Since when does Peter give them lectures on what family or Pack was? Since when is Peter on Stiles’ side instead of them being on Stiles’ side? Since when does Peter actually give a shit? Is this all some kind of power play by the man?

 

+1

Scott chokes on the smoke the fire spirit is surrounded by and curses his life. It’s just him and the betas trying to take it down and he’s sorely missing Peter’s strategy and Derek’s strength, but neither Hale want anything to do with fire.

Scott can understand that even if it pisses him off. Peter has already burned too many times and Derek goes clammy and unresponsive at the even lightest whiff of smoke. The Hales would be of no use if they were here. So they’d stayed behind with Stiles at the Stilinski household.

He pulls the powder that Stiles had prepared for him out of his pocket as they finally start to succeed in wrangling the spirit where they need it. According to Deaton, this powder with Stiles’ Spark’s blessing, should suck the flames out of the spirit entirely.

It takes a couple more minutes of maneuvering and growling in order to get close enough to the flaming woman. As soon as he’s in range of the girl, and really she looks like a child underneath all the fire, he tosses the grey powder directly into her face. She rears back and screams hoarsely. More smoke and flame billow out from around her. Scott’s just glad that it’s in the middle of the rainy season and the trees in the preserve aren’t likely to actually catch on fire.

She claws at her face and then shrieks, “Spark!” She turns her glowing eyes on each of them in turn but doesn't seem to find what she’s looking for. She roars and begins running frantically away from them. Scott follows after, but signals for the betas to follow not attack. The powder should take effect and then they can safely restrain her.

It’s not Scott who realizes where she’s running, it’s Isaac. “Stiles!” is all the curly haired wolf says and Scott understands. He runs to try and cut the spirit off, but they’re already closing in on the other side of the preserve, where the Stilinski house’s backyard pushes up against the trees.

Even if they wanted to attack the spirit, they can’t get close enough without burning. The flames are starting to sputter and her legs are noticeably shaking, but the spurts of power that come and go are becoming even more forceful the less stable she becomes. She may be having her powers sapped from her, but they’re not going without a fight.

Before too much longer Stiles’ house becomes visible in the distance and the flames are burning brighter than ever. Scott is covered in sweat and ash and at a loss of what to do. “Erica gets Stiles away from here. Isaac take left, Jackson and Boyd try to find something that won’t burn that you can use as a weapon!” Scott orders.

“SPARK!” the spirit shouts in a voice that should not belong to a small girl. Her burning eyes are set on the house and she’s still staggering toward it.

“How can it even tell where he is?” Jackson demands in frustration. He throws a decorative metal bench from one of Stiles’ neighbors’ backyards, but the spirit merely brushes it away.

“She can sense my blessing on the powder,” Stiles answers easily. All the wolves look over in surprise to find Stiles standing at the edge of his yard watching them all. “Erica’s helping Derek and Peter,” Stiles says as if that’s what they’re confused about.

“Get back inside!” Scott shouts. The spirit shouts incomprehensibly and begins shooting fireballs at Stiles. Scott belatedly realizes that going into the house would be a terrible idea unless they wanted the house to burn down.

Stiles stumbles as he avoids the attacks and runs back further into the woods in an attempt to lure the fight away from the public eye. The girl screams in frustration as she follows and the flames burn even hotter. Every second or so the flames die out completely to show the smooth pale skin of a young girl, but then they’ll return with a vengeance.

They spend a couple of minutes playing a scorching game of hide and seek with her as the wolves try to draw her away from Stiles to no avail. Stiles is gasping for breath in the smoke all around them and he’s deflecting a few well-aimed shots of fire with a flick of his wrist and a Spark induced shield.

The girl is more girl than fire now but she’s steaming and smoking even worse than before. Stiles shouts, “There’s something wrong!” He trips over a root and rolls away from the next attack by the spirit. Her attacks are now full physical attacks, trying to tackle the human which would no doubt burn him just as badly as an open flame. Stiles falls into a coughing fit and falls to the ground once again.

Scott lurches forward to try and help but is stopped by a blast of steam and smoke. He can hear Stiles shout, “She’s going to implode guys! Get out of here!”

Scott’s lungs rebel against the smoke all around them but he pushes on regardless. He’s not leaving his best friend in there to die to an exploding flame child. He stumbles across Stiles and the girl mid-fight. Stiles has burns up and down his arms but they don’t look too severe. More like light grazes he would guess.

He grabs Stiles’ arm and begins pulling them away from the spirit and back further into the preserve. The way to the Stilinski house is barred from them by now. They don’t get very far before the spirit behind them gives one final scream and suddenly there’s fire all around them. Scott screams and coughs on said scream as flames lick at his body everywhere and his vision is filled with black and red and orange and fear. But somehow he doesn’t feel any pain.

Strong arms grab him and throw him through the air to land with a painful thump several meters from the edge of the fire. He looks on in confusion but can barely see anything beyond the fire in front of him. The flames are hitting some invisible wall, unable to continue spreading through the forest around them. Scott sees Erica and Jackson and Boyd and Isaac run up to him and check him over for injuries. “Where’s Stiles?” Scott asks, eyes still on the contained fire in front of them.

Isaac shrugs and looks at the fire as well. Erica whispers through a smoke-clogged throat, “He’s still in there. Peter was the one to throw you out. They’re both still in there…”

“Peter ran into the fire?” Scott gasps out in a mixture of protesting lungs and shock. He didn’t think the man had it in him.

“Well, what did you expect? Stiles was in there!” she exclaimed.

“Where’s Derek?” Scott asks. If either Hale had sacrificed himself for Stiles he fully expects it to have been Derek, not Peter.

“Passed out in Stiles’ Jeep last I saw him. He smelled the smoke and saw the fire and just lost it.”

Scott watches with mounting anxiety as the fire continues to rage in its cage. If it’s not spreading then that has to be Stiles’ doing, right? They all flinch away when they feel a flash of power, of pure energy, rush by them and into the fire. There’s a sound like a subway car crashing into the side of its tunnel and the fire blinks out of existence leaving behind a large charred circle of ground and thick smoke clogging the air.

Scott runs forward without hesitation in a desperate search for his friend. The others are behind him but they’re all blinded by the smoke and wary of stepping on the man.

Scott’s the first to find him, or rather Peter. The older man is curled around Stiles in a position that can be nothing but protective desperation. Peter’s hair is burnt on the edges and his clothes are steaming and covered in large holes, but his skin isn’t burnt merely pink from heat. Stiles, however, is burnt in several places and seemingly unconscious.

Scott falls to his knees beside the two and reaches forward to check on his friend. He half expects Peter to growl or attack him for trying to touch Stiles, but the man just moves aside and watches in abject fear as Scott’s hand touches Stiles forehead. Scott can hear their heartbeats now that the fire is gone and his panic is abated. Stiles’ is steady and slow like he’s asleep which most likely  means that he just needs to regain the energy he lost when using his Spark. Scott's shoulders slump in relief. He notices that Peter’s heart rate, unlike Stiles, is harsh and fast and overwhelming. The man smells like smoke and ash and terror.

“Is he okay?” Peter croaks out, hands already gently patting down the body cradled in his arms.

Scott watches at a loss for words because this can be seen as nothing short of genuine worry and concern. Which means Peter genuinely cares. Which means…

“Scott!” Peter interrupts. “He needs the hospital. He’s got some burns and he’s going to be extremely dehydrated when he wakes up.” Peter’s voice is tight with control but his hands are shaking and his heart is skipping every third beat as it races away in his chest. Erica is there a moment later and ripping her tank top into pieces to wrap around Stiles’ burns to try and mitigate any dirt or bacteria.

Scott lifts Stiles out of Peter’s arms and slowly begins the careful trek back to the Stilinski home. Peter is on his feet a moment later and hovering over Stiles and Scott. The Alpha finds looking at Peter’s openly terrified and ash smudged face to be painful, so instead, he looks at the ground. “What the hell happened?” Scott asks finally. The house is in sight by now and the others have gone ahead to get the car prepared and call Melissa.

“Stiles happened,” Peter replies, eyes still on Stiles. His hands keep coming up to gently brush across Stiles’ cheek or hand or arm or anything within reach.

“What’d he do though?”

Peter shrugs absently, “No clue. Saved both our lives though. We all would have been incinerated without him.”

Scott nods in acknowledgment. He remembers being engulfed in flame but feeling nothing beyond heat. Stiles must have projected a barrier onto them at the last minute. It makes him uncomfortable knowing that Peter ran directly into the explosion with no knowledge that Stiles could protect him. That’s irrefutable evidence of something Scott doesn’t want to be true.

“You ran in there knowing that?” Erica asks. Scott startles and glares as she pops up next to them. She hands Peter a cold water bottle and helps tuck Stiles into the back seat before handing another to Scott. Peter doesn't answer the question, just chugs his bottle and gets into the car with Stiles.

Erica looks at the two of them with fondness and clambers into the driver’s seat. “Boyd and the boys took Derek home. Your mom’s waiting at the hospital, she’s already got a room and supplies set aside for Stiles.” Scott nods but doesn’t get into the car.

“Take them. I’m going to call the Sheriff and then go talk to Deaton, maybe he’ll know why the girl exploded like that. Maybe he’ll know a way to help Stiles wake up faster.” Erica nods and takes off with no further conversation.

Scott still catches sight of Peter bent over Stiles’ unconscious form with his eyes closed and tear tracks flowing through the dark ash on his face. His heartbeat is still fast and frantic and Scott can smell the scent of relief and fear underneath the smoke.

Maybe he was wrong and Peter did care. Scott scowls and reminds himself that doesn’t mean anything. Peter still isn’t a good man and isn’t a good influence on Stiles. That said, Scott still can’t shake the image of Peter huddled over Stiles’ body. Can’t forget that Peter Hale, who won’t even go near a match or a lighter, went running straight into a fiery explosion. That Peter Hale threw Scott to safety and then curled around his best friend to try and shield him. Peter Hale. Goddamn.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought about Peter's or Scott's characterization. I find Scott to be challenging at times just because he's so blind to many things while still genuinely trying to be a good person. That can be a tricky balance to hit.  
> Thanks for reading!!


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